


I'm a skilled cosmic sorceress C:

by depresane



Series: detached TiNTiGTiN scenes [1]
Category: Baldur's Gate, Forgotten Realms, Neverwinter Nights
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Dark Elves, Fictional Languages, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Half-Elves, Human, Magic, Mental Meltdown, Name Changes, Rashemi, Swearing, Violence, fanfic spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23936218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depresane/pseuds/depresane
Summary: Gorion's Ward changes classes.It starts dark but ends with hope.
Relationships: Female Charname & Viconia DeVir
Series: detached TiNTiGTiN scenes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1472414
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	I'm a skilled cosmic sorceress C:

**Author's Note:**

> Viconia became Verkorir if you didn't know.

No.  
Even four years later. Even miles away from Baldur's Gate. Even when the Iron Throne was gone.  
More assassins.  
Vissenvaib collapsed, yelling and shrieking. The group reacted with no hesitation: Ajantia leapt and thrust their shield forth; Branwen chanted and cast spells; Kagain ran towards the nearest hitman; Imoen grabbed four arrows and launched them rapidly; Hadi'a, having jumped from their bag onto pavement, exclaimed a long meow and walked closer.  
But the Rashemi half-elf remained lying, punching the pavement with her right palm.  
Verkorir rushed to Imoen. "The woman has removed fear, right? Why is Vissen still down?"  
"It must be something else!" she managed to reply before dodging a belt. "Help her!"  
The dark elf blinked. Help. A broad concept with various paths. Should she escort the mage? Encourage her to defend the party? Or simply to stop her sorrow?  
Vissenvaib wept, her hand hot and flushing. Hadi'a stared at her, confused and powerless.  
Verkorir looked around; none of the assassins appeared to be elves. She bent and tiptoed to the companion; as she knelt, she moved her staff to her left hand and rested its end, stabilising her pose.  
"Zhaunil," she began in Ilythiirian.  
The mage replied, "What zhaunil!? What kind of wisdom can reclaim the purpose of my suffering? I am tired of facing a threat that never ends! The threat that actively stalks us! Stubborn, terrifying, and with no visible matter that could be destroyed! Only vessels that keep emerging in every single town!"  
"Vissen?"  
"It's because of those stupid coins I tried giving to the bard!"  
"What? No, abbil..."  
"It must be! The rumours spread and now they all know I'm the odd one! Dad was right – nobody will accept me like Candlekeep!"  
Vissenvaib's logic caught her off-guard.  
"... we should have sailed back home..."  
Verkorir took a glance at the battle and reached into her bag. "We will. I promise you we will." She took out a silver mirror, handleless, its diameter of two inches. "Damn it, can a pilgrim cast this? Lady of the Dance, hear my plea. Le hied bren ik ker aul an ent yn miir lor etriel. Holme."

They gazed at each other in surprise: the half-elf, admiring Verkorir's fluency in Espruar; the Ilythiiri, relieved that the spell worked.  
"Listen, Zhaunil. It's not the coins. It's not your caprice. You may think so, and it's not your fault, you're just trying... to... You're constantly trying. Doing additional mental work. But no, those henchmen are something else. Listen."  
In the distance, one of the assassins cussed, injured by Ajantia. Quiet though they were, Vissenvaib heard their articulation very clearly.  
"Thayan." She boiled gently. "Teĭanika v Bezmrozovu!? Ĭak?!"  
"See? It's not your blunders."  
"But why are they here? Sukin, now I'm upset that I can't fight them!"  
"It's alright, just stay with Kitty. You're safe."  
She sat up. "Nĭe! Chervene shervo! Genile kukly!"  
"Vissen."  
"Damn it! The problem is... I can't fight anyway! I can't focus during the meditation. I haven't learnt any new spell. I couldn't get the cockatrice. And I'm pushing away all deities but one, who's technically dead, so... I'm screwed!"  
"But you summoned the... feline citizen."  
"Uh... I did."  
"And all those doors."  
"I did."  
"Non-conventionally."  
"Yup."  
Verkorir froze. Words. Vocabulary. Oh dear. "Maybe you're not a mage."  
Vissenvaib rose her ears. "WHAT."  
A voice interrupted the duo, "Verver! Heal!"  
The Ilythiiri shivered. "Shit. No, really, maybe... You're someone else. Like me." She sprang and sprinted.

The Rashemi opened her hands in confusion. She gazed at the sky, its violet and navy blue shades resembling a silk dress, with the lunar pendant resting near the fold of a cloud.  
Her right hand, previously aching from self-centered aggression, became pleasantly cold. She took a look – only to realise basins have appeared on the surface, akin to those on the moon. She also noticed her skin has gained a dusty texture. She unrolled her sleeves, and even checked her calves – the same phenomenon.  
The sight spooked her, but she soon recognised the signs. "Verky is right. I'm not a mage. I'm a sorceress."  
At last, the half-elf stood up and prepared her fingers. "One spell and the Sanctuary fades, so I need a good one. Perhaps Sleep. But everyone's mixed... Charm? Whom should I charm, then?"  
The assassins answered for her as one of them zigzagged to her.  
Vissenvaib inhaled. She imagined the foe dropping their weapon and kneeling. Violet mist sparkled between her left thumb and left middle finger. She spoke casually, "Charm."  
The enemy kept holding their knife, but they stopped running.  
She stepped back. "Hadie, back me up. Um. What's your name?"  
The enchanted opponent smiled. "Hingeban of Bezantur."  
One of the hitmen was about to throw his dagger but he received a huge icicle, Hadi'a's spell, shoved through his upper chest, from one armpit to the other.  
Vissenvaib continued, "Why have you attacked us?"  
"To stop you from finding the cure."  
"Wonderful," she uttered.  
Branwen approached them. "Is he enchanted?"  
"I think so."  
"Tie him up, I'll cover you."  
The half-elf looked for a rope in her backpack. "I can't really believe it. They don't look like someone who should surrender that easily..."  
Hingeban interrupted her with a monotonous explanation. "The moon has blessed you and enhanced your powers."  
"Oh. So the moon affects the mind spells... Somehow. Keĭ." She found the rope and wrapped it around the foe's wrists. As she was tying a knot, pride painted a grin on her face. She bounced out of joy. "Vesmirna. Sem zedolna vesmirna valshebnitsa."

**Author's Note:**

> "Le hied bren ik ker..." - I hold this mighty spell in hand and bring blessing to her. Sanctuary.


End file.
